


Teeny

by yeaka



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe, Fae & Fairies, Gen, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-15
Updated: 2019-12-15
Packaged: 2021-02-25 05:34:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21810904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Smol Gladio’s bummed.
Comments: 9
Kudos: 51





	Teeny

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Final Fantasy XV or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

Ignis can usually tell the difference between properly brewed coffee and hastily thrown together mixes, but Ebony is the one brand that can deliver that morning boost he so craves without all the fuss. He can simply open the fridge, pop open a can, and if he wants it hot, all he has to do is pour it in a regular pot and set that to boil while he begins chopping vegetables for his breakfast wrap. As he turns the stove top on, he asks, “Would you like some, Gladio?”

The question is a common courtesy, but the answers is almost invariably the same—it seems Gladiolus still hasn’t gotten over the marvel that is _human_ food. When Ignis first discovered the tiny sprite riffling through his cupboards in the middle of the night, he was sure that’s what was going on: Gladiolus was stealing crumbs. He denies that, of course, declaring himself no thief, and true enough: everything he has now is freely given. The nest he’s made above the fridge is composed only out of the old hats and socks Ignis has gifted him. The food he eats now is what Ignis cuts away from his own meals. Even the real estate Gladiolus takes up is rent-free, because it would be absurd for Ignis to charge rent to someone who takes up barely twenty centimeters of space. Instead of monetary compensation, Ignis gets constant companionship and a tantalizing peek at a work usually hidden from humans. 

Under normal circumstances, Gladiolus doesn’t seem to have any trouble boasting of the fairy realm over their morning cup and thimble of coffee. But this time, Gladiolus only makes a noncommittal grunt that draws Ignis’ eyebrow. 

He hesitates with his knife still imbedded in a carrot, turning back to eye the top of the fridge. He can see the dark tufts of Gladiolus’ hair sticking out of it, and the sheer black wings made like a dragonfly’s but patterned like an eagle’s. Concerned, Ignis asks, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

Ignis abandons his vegetables. He walks over and reaches up, carefully collecting the entire nest and drawing it down in both hands. He peers at Gladiolus, who doesn’t look to be injured—a great relief, given that the neighbour’s cat doesn’t seem to know the difference between a sprite and a rat. Not that Gladiolus couldn’t take on a cat if he wanted. 

He huffs up at Ignis’ frown and grunts, “Alright. It’s just... remember yesterday when you said I was _small_?”

Ignis doesn’t remember so specific a conversation, but does tend to privately marvel over how _tiny_ and _cute_ Gladiolus is. So he probably said that. He nods.

“Well, I’m not supposed to be small. I’m supposed to be _big_.” He stares up at Ignis, eyes burning, looking incredibly intense for a man that fits so nicely in the palm of Ignis’ hand. Gladiolus pushes up to his feet, and Ignis holds the nest absolutely still so as not to disrupt his balance. Gladiolus clasps his hands around his belt, drawing Ignis to wonder again where he gets his clothes—they look far better made than the doll clothing common to toy stores: more like the specialty, incredibly expensive, custom made outfits one buys from professional artists. His black jacket even has an elaborate design embroidered on the back, and he has a dark necklace that sounds out brilliantly against the bare skin of his chest. He tells Ignis, “I mean, have you seen these muscles? I’m the largest fairy around here.” A short pause, and Gladiolus admits, “But... to you...”

Ignis has to bite the inside of his cheek to keep himself from chuckling at Gladiolus’ adorable posturing. He also doesn’t coo ‘ _aww_ ,’ like he wants to, because that would be condescending. Instead, he deadpans, “Our overall proportions may be different, but I do still appreciate how muscular you are. It’s clear you’ve worked out.”

“I do work out!” Gladiolus insists. “Have you seen these abs?” He spreads his jacket open wider, and Ignis can faintly make out the chiseled lines of his midsection. He’s definitely a full-on beefcake. For a fairy. Gladiolus asks, “ _Can_ you even see them?”

Ignis can. The glasses help. But he has an idea to prove it. He gingerly sets the nest down on the counter and diverts to his stationary drawer, only to return with a magnifying glass.

He hovers it over Gladiolus and hums, “There.”

Gladiolus puffs out, visibly preening. 

“Most impressive.”

“Yeah?”

“Quite.”

Gladiolus finally dons a languid grin that looks much better on him than a childish pout. Ignis returns the smile. Behind him, the pot lid clatters, signaling it’s boiling. He tries again, “Would you like some coffee?”

“Sure, Iggy.” Gladiolus glances sideways at the cutting board next to him and adds, “And I’ll have some of that too. Gotta keep this sweet bod up.”

Ignis nods congenially and gets to work.


End file.
